Now We Wait

Elizabeth had her interview this morning at the college prep junior high to which she is applying. She turned in her application in early January, shadowed a student for a day and then took the placement exam in late January, and her interview today was the last step in the application process. She was nervous and her answers were brief, but her interviewer was very kind and welcoming. I looked him up on the way home, and it turns out he is the orchestra teacher. Perhaps he was impressed that her hobbies include the piano, violin, and ukulele. Here's hoping.

Now we wait. There's nothing else we can do. They send out acceptance and rejection letters on February 20th, so a day or two after that she will know for certain where she will go to school next year.

All of this has felt a bit stressful for me lately, but as I was running this morning I asked myself what's the worst that could happen if she is not accepted. The "worst" would be that she goes to our home junior high and is enrolled in the honors program. What's so bad about that? Probably nothing.

Though it's a Title I school, there are perks that come with that rather undesirable designation. Where the state falls short on supporting our schools, at least the federal government steps up in these situations and offers funding for additional resources. I'm not certain how those funds are allocated and who benefits the most from them, but hopefully all the school's students get a piece of that pie, no matter where they fall on the academic or socioeconomic ladders.

At either school, she'll be enrolled in honors classes so she won't have to deal with so much nonsense from some of her classmates. One of her teachers told me that she doesn't know how Elizabeth puts up with half the students in her class. It's really a shame she is mixed in with such a tough group of kids. All three of the sixth grade teachers are at their wit's end, and after subbing in those classes a few days (during which I embarrassingly walked myself to the principal's office to confess that I had suggested that certain kids "shut up" and get to work on their assignment), I have no idea how they are going to get through the end of the year with some of those boys. They are exhausting.

Both schools would probably be good for her, but right now I feel the college prep would be a better fit. Elizabeth's teacher told her yesterday, "Elizabeth, if you don't get accepted then I will retire at the end of this year and get a job at Walmart!" Let's hope for both Elizabeth's and her teacher's sakes, that the college prep agrees that that's where Elizabeth belongs.

Two Weeks!

It's time to run for it and time to get after it. I absolutely must get up and run in the morning before I spiral into a dark place. I haven't exercised in two weeks. Fourteen days. A whole fortnight! I don't expect it to go well tomorrow, but the simple reality is that I just have to do it before my mind explodes and my body expands.

Boring Stories of Glory Days

Often when my kids and I are driving around town, we're listening to music. Elizabeth took the Taylor Swift CD to her room, much to Matthew's delight, so now we're back to the radio. I toggle between a few favorite stations. There's the one that plays trending music, the one that plays the best of the 70s through today, the classic rock station, the one with my adult contemporary favorites, and the station that I call the guitar channel because, well, it tends to feature guitar-heavy tracks.

I probably annoy my kids (or very soon will start to) when a song comes on and I share my "boring stories of glory days." In fact, that song might have started it all. It came on the radio a while ago and I said to the kids, "I remember the first time I heard this song! I was in second grade and at my friend Jennifer's birthday party at the roller rink. Everyone screamed when it came on, and by the time the chorus began I understood why. Man, this is a good song." Matthew ignored me, and Elizabeth said I was weird. I already know that though, so that's why I continue to do this.

Tonight, on the way home from piano lessons, I stopped on a Red Hot Chili Peppers' song because just the other day we were discussing their Super Bowl halftime show at dinner. So I pointed out that that's who was singing. They weren't impressed, but then the next song came on and it was "Fight for Your Right" by Beastie Boys. On cue, I told them this song was popular when I was Elizabeth's age, and they listened and laughed. At first I was worried I might be corrupting them, but then I remembered that right after school today I introduced them to "Mr. Tambourine Man." These songs may be completely different, but they're both classics. So is Pearl Jam's "Alive" which also prompted a "This song was out when I was in high school" from me, and later when "One Headlight" came on my kids learned that song was written by the "Mr. Tambourine Man" guy's son.

I'm full of what some may call useless information to share, but I grew up with a similar kind of commentary. And look at me now! haha Well, at the very least, you better believe my kids will never be praising Kanye West for discovering Sir Paul McCartney. :)

Enough May Be Enough

You know how sometimes you count the hours until work's over and you can go home? I haven't been doing that much lately. Mostly it's because a little while after we all get home we head to the park for Elizabeth's makeshift Girl Scout cookie booth. And it's always a rip-roaring good time.

It's really not that bad. I mean, I just sit there and read, Elizabeth does her homework, and Matthew plays on the playground. Customers come and go, and she usually sells about twenty boxes in the hour and a half we're out there. A huge plus is watching Elizabeth take pride in her little business, interact with her customers, and celebrate each sale. She's learned a lot and been able to taken advantage of several opportunities available to her from the proceeds. She's had some fantastic experiences and has the memories to prove it.

However, there are moments when I wonder if it would be better to just pay for whatever she wants to do in Girl Scouts, especially now that the new leaders do things so differently. Cookie season is a drag. It always has been for lots of reasons, but I've found that I've reached the point where I really don't feel sitting out there daily, going to cookie booths, and otherwise bugging everyone we know is worth it anymore.

Then that thought goes beyond cookies, and I realize that this is very likely Elizabeth's last year in Girl Scouts. It's an excellent program, but the troop's new dynamics and direction aren't as much fun to Elizabeth as they used to be. I think it might be more meaningful to both her and me to put this time, money, and ambition towards Mother/Daughter experiences of our choice. And we can do them when we want to do them!

That idea is sounding better and better.

Yikes

I haven't exercised in ten days. Wow.

Now, you know I've been sick, so maybe that doesn't sound so surprising. Sometimes a body needs rest more than it needs a workout. That's true. However, what I find surprising is that I haven't missed exercising. At all.

I used to crave it. I needed it. It was my daily escape. Lately I can't force myself out of bed any earlier than I need to in order to get ready for my day, whatever it is.

What's happening? Who am I? I need to figure out a plan and quick before things totally fall apart. My friends aren't as into as they were, either. Is that why? Or perhaps I do need to register for events to keep moving. My last event was Ragnar, almost exactly a year ago. Sure I've had some bumps in the road with injuries this year, but I think maybe that's just age so I had better get used to it. Then again, the only person on my DailyMile feed who's really moving is my father-in-law. And he's 67. So I guess that theory is crap.

Time to get back at it! I'll start Thursday. Or Friday. Or maybe Saturday.

Mmmmm. Waffles.

I've fallen a bit behind in my reading. A few months ago, I mentioned I planned to read all twelve of the Battle of the Books books this year. So far, I've read only five.

Tonight I read this gem.

It's my favorite so far. Leave it to a fictional eleven-year-old girl to teach us lessons in hope, peace, understanding, and acceptance. It's not exactly Anne of Green Gables, but you can bet I shed some tears.

Now I'm back on track with this reading project. And I'm also a little hungry for waffles.

Super Sunday

Well, super seems extreme. Let's just call it better. I spent less time sleeping and lying around than I did yesterday. I also ventured to the grocery store and did laundry. Just like old times. Weeee!

I need to give a shout out to Elizabeth for being the sweetest daughter. The last few days she's often asked, "Is there anything I can do for you?" She also said, "I don't like seeing you sick. I never see when Daddy's sick." I asked why and immediately regretted it because I thought she'd say because he goes to work. But instead she said, "Because he stays in bed and sleeps but you have all this other stuff to do." Aww. She gets it. She understands that I'm needed and my work IS valuable.

She's compassionate and astute and also likes to carry on traditions. It's a long story that i may tell you about sometime, but for the ladt few years we have had a cookie pizza for dessert during the Super Bowl. Yesterday she expressed her disappointment that we won't have one this year.

She looked so forlorn. I felt so bad. Then I suggested that she could make it, and her eyes were bright again. I had some leftover chocolate buttercream icing in the freezer from Brian's birthday cake, so this afternoon she whipped up this beauty.

She even cut it and served it to us during the fourth quarter. Super indeed!